


Home Alone

by tifaching



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode Tag, Episode: s09e02 Devil May Care, Gen, Men of Letters Bunker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 12:49:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6658483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tifaching/pseuds/tifaching
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the end of the world and Kevin's anything but fine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home Alone

The bunker’s dark, quiet in a way it never is when Sam and Dean are home. Kevin can’t get out. The phone lines are dead, land and cell and he could scream himself hoarse but no one would hear. Or, someone would. Who knows what’s out there now that had the power to shut down even this self contained underground sanctuary.

The bunker is huge; Kevin’s sure he hasn’t been in ninety percent of it. Sam and Dean probably haven’t even discovered more than half. He could go anywhere, hide deep inside, but behind an overturned table at the bottom of the stairs is as far as he can force himself to go. Here he can defend against anything (tentacle monsters, insectoid killing machines with sharp, deadly teeth, zombies) that might get the door open from the outside.

He grabs a crossbow. Dean would shake his head, tell him to grab a gun, Katniss, but Kevin doesn’t know what to do with a gun. He’d learned to shoot a crossbow, not very well, something he’ll be grateful for later, in a class on medieval weaponry he’d taken in his practically non-existent spare time. It’d been a secret, like the horror movies he’s imagining recreating themselves outside the bunker’s reinforced door. His mother had frowned mightily on anything that wasn’t going to get him into the Ivy League school of his choice.

The kitchen’s too far away to risk so he rations out some crackers Dean left on the sideboard with the liquor. Which he’s tempted to drink when the water for the whiskey and soda’s is gone, but he doesn’t; at least some of the rules his mother gave him aren’t going to be broken. The bathroom’s even farther down the twisting corridors and he doesn’t dare leave his post long enough. Dean won’t miss the bottles Kevin empties into the ice buckets and then refills, he’s almost sure of it.

A day passes, then another and another. He’s going to have to eat soon. Maybe a quick trip to the kitchen to grab a snack? A side jaunt to the bathroom wouldn’t go amiss, but he’s pretty sure that one won’t be fast or pretty. Better to wait. For what he doesn’t know. For the door to open and zombies to rush in and eat him? To die of starvation, dehydration and constipation? To start eating his own arm? Deep down, though, he knows what he’s waiting for and on day four it happens.

There’s a clanging and the door swings open. Kevin lifts the bow and fires, arrow thumping into the railing at the top of the stairs. He’s reloading when Dean walks through and gives his little arrow the pitying look that Kevin just knew would cross Dean’s face. But it’s okay. Dean’s here and he’s not shredded physically or emotionally and that means Sam will be right behind him. Allies definitely, friends…maybe. One thing’s for sure. Now that they’re back, he feels a hell of a lot better about his chances of living through whatever just happened out there.


End file.
